


Another Sky At Midday

by kally77



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kally77/pseuds/kally77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Hey, you're… me: meeting alternate universe counterparts."</p>
<p>Connor and Spike visit another reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Sky At Midday

The portal closed behind them with a _whoosh_. Connor struggled not to look back. 

“Half an hour,” Spike said. He shifted his stance just enough that their shoulders brushed together. “You all right?”

Connor shrugged. His arm pressed against Spike’s.

“Let’s do this then.” He walked down the steps and into the lobby of the Hyperion, aware and thankful that Spike was right on his heels. It looked the same as he remembered, and yet he could see a few differences, here and there. “Hello?” 

Behind him, Spike called out, “Anyone home?”

A child ran out of the office, laughing even as a shout rose behind him.

“Connor! No!”

Connor froze. Blinking very fast, he watched as Angel rushed after the child, catching him before he passed the counter. He picked him up, both hands at his waist, and a huge grin lit up the child’s face as he was raised into the air.

“What did we say about running when you don’t know what’s ahead?” Angel said sternly.

The child laughed. “But you always catch me! And I knew it was Uncle Spike!”

Angel looked up even as he set the child down, not letting go quite yet. “I see that. But we said—”

The child twisted, escaping him and laughing again as he ran to Spike. Two steps away from him, he jumped up. Spike’s surprise was obvious both in his muttered curse and widening eyes, but he caught the child before they collided, and held him up.

“Hey! What’s up with the jumping act, kid?”

The child’s face split up on a huge grin. He was missing two front teeth, Connor noticed. Something inside his chest tightened painfully.

“Uncle Spike! I’ve missed you!”

Spike’s eyes flickered to Connor. In that same instant, the child reached out, grabbing Spike’s neck. He planted a kiss on his cheek before wiggling out of his grip as easily as he had escaped Angel’s.

“I’ve learned new moves!” he said, jumping up and down in front of Spike. “Want me to show you?”

Spike’s expression was priceless, a mix of bafflement and wonder. Connor couldn’t help but smile.

“Maybe later,” Angel said, coming up behind the child and ruffling his hair. “Why don’t you go finish your homework while I talk to Spike and his friend?”

The child turned a mutinous look toward Angel, then a pleading one toward Spike, finally heaving a sigh as he walked back toward the office, dragging his feet the entire way. Angel watched him go with a slight smile before looking back at Spike. To Connor’s surprise – and Spike’s too, judging by how long it took him to react – he held out his hand for Spike to shake.

“She finally gave you back your coat, huh?”

Spike looked at him in confusion. “What? Who?”

Angel frowned as he let go of his hand and crossed his arms. “Who? Did you two argue again?” He rolled his eyes. “God, you’re impossible. Both of you. It’s a wonder she hasn’t staked you yet.”

A muscle twitched in Spike cheek. “All right, change of plan.” He glanced at Connor and shook his head. “Sorry, pet, but I can’t pretend. This is just too damn weird.”

As he looked back at Angel, Spike ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not Spike.” He grimaced and corrected himself at once. “Well, I _am_ Spike, but not the Spike you know. We’re from another dimension. We need—”

The door opened behind them, and an exclamation cut him off. “Spike! It’s been forever!”

Connor recognized her voice before he even turned to see Cordelia walk in. Watching her plant a kiss on Spike’s cheek, very much like the child had, was absolutely eerie. 

Angel’s hand was already rising toward her, calling her to him. “Cordy, that’s not—”

“Mommy!”

Once more, the child was rushing out of the office. Once more he was laughing. Once more he was welcomed by open arms.

Connor’s stomach lurched until he could taste bile burning the back of his throat.

“Oh my God this is hell.” He turned away from them – from that happy family – and without thinking climbed the steps up to the landing. His fingers were already curled on the door handle when Spike’s hand closed on his shoulder and squeezed.

“No time to run around town, love.”

Without looking back, Connor shook his head. “I can’t do it. I can’t look at—”

He bit down on his bottom lip until the taste of blood had replaced the taste of bile. Spike squeezed down again.

“Can we take this show to your office?” Spike said. “Get a bit of quiet so we can explain.”

If Angel answered, Connor didn’t hear it. He kept his eyes down and let himself be dragged by the hand through the lobby and to Angel’s office. As soon as the door closed, he could breathe a little more easily.

“So,” Angel said coolly, crossing his arms again. “You’re Spike, but you’re not the Spike I know. And who is he?”

Spike scoffed. “Take a good look at him. Give him a sniff if you must. And then _you_ tell _me_ who you think he is.”

Looking up, Connor found Angel frowning. He grimaced and looked away. His gaze fell on the small desk that was wedged next to Angel’s. A pencil lay across a writing practice worksheet. The child’s handwriting was a bit sloppy; Connor’s had never been too neat either.

“No,” Angel said, the sound coming out in a rush of air as though he had just been punched. Connor glanced at him, and wasn’t all that surprised to find wide, incredulous eyes detailing his features. “It’s not possible!”

Spike chuckled. “You accepted that I wasn't your Spike before I could even explain, but you can’t believe you’ve got your son in front of you?”

Angel’s eyes lowered to Spike’s and Connor’s joined hands. His expression darkened in a blink. He lashed out before either of them could react, punching Spike squarely in the jaw. Spike’s head snapped back and he stumbled backward. With a strange feeling of déjà vu, Connor stepped between them, hands raised in an appeasing gesture.

“Come on, Dad! Not again!”

Angel blinked, his hands dropping at his side. 

Connor could feel heat flushing his cheeks before he even realized what he had said. He cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down. “I shouldn’t call you that. You’re not my—”

“Dad?” The child’s face peeked through a narrow opening behind the door. “Mommy went up and she said I could—” As he looked around the room, he started frowning. “Are you angry with Uncle Spike?”

Angel’s eyes went back and forth between the child and Connor, but no words came out of his mouth.

“Everything’s fine, nibblet,” Spike said. “What is it you want?”

“Huh… my Game Boy?”

The toy was on Angel’s desk. Connor grabbed it and walked to the door, stopping to lay a hand on Spike’s jaw where a bruise was already starting to appear.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered. “I’ll just… be out there. OK?”

Spike’s eyes narrowed in worry. “I shouldn’t have made you—”

“I’ll be fine. Just tell him what we need, get it and we’ll go home.”

Spike twisted his head to kiss Connor’s fingers. “Don’t leave the hotel. We’ve got—” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “—a bit more than twenty minutes.”

Nodding, Connor stepped away and out of the room. He handed out the game to the child, receiving a grin and a “thanks!” in reply. He looked around, confirming that Cordelia was gone, before following the child to the sofa. He sat next to him and watched him sideways. His bangs were falling in his eyes, but he didn’t seem to notice, so focused on the game already that he was biting down on his bottom lip.

“So how old are you?” Connor asked quietly.

The child briefly looked up at him. “Five,” he said, then puffed up his chest a little. “But I’ll be six soon! My birthday is next week!”

Connor smiled. “Yeah. Mine too.”

That brought the child’s eyes back to him. They were clear, so clear – like a sky at midday, Spike had once told him, but Connor had never seen it in himself before.

“What are you going to do on your birthday?” the child asked, practically bouncing on his seat. “My Daddy’s going to take me to a hockey game!”

“That sounds fun.” Connor’s smile was wavering; he struggled to keep it in place. “Your Dad looks nice.”

The child nodded at once. “He’s the best Daddy in the entire _world_!” Leaning toward Connor, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I’m not supposed to tell, but he’s a superhero.”

Connor’s hands clenched into fists before he could stop himself. “He is?” he mumbled.

Another nod. “He helps tons and tons of people. Mommy, too. And he said when I’m big, I can be a superhero too. But only if I want to.”

Connor had to ask even though he already knew the answer. “And do you want to?” 

The child laughed. “Yes! I already know all sorts of moves. Do you want me to show you?”

Connor shook his head. “Another time. I’m sure you’re very good.”

With a slight pout, the child returned to his game, his thumbs working furiously on the buttons. Connor leaned over to see what he was playing.

“I used to love this game,” he murmured, the memories of an endless summer and those of a bright, cheerful Christmas melding until he didn’t know anymore when he had played it.

“It’s fun,” the child agreed without looking up. “But I always get stuck… ah yuck. Again.”

The sad trills of the music announced that his character had just lost all its energy.

“I used to get stuck there too,” Connor said. “It took me forever to figure it out. Want me to show you?”

The child handed him the game easily enough, and for the next few minutes, they took turns playing. Connor was startled when he looked up to find Spike and Angel standing in front of the sofa, identical wistful expressions on their faces. Focusing on Spike, Connor gave him a questioning look. Spike tapped his chest over the inside pocket of his duster.

“Got it,” he said simply. “The portal should open in just a moment. You want to say goodbye?”

Connor looked at the child. Without thinking, he ruffled his hair like Angel had, drawing a giggle from him. 

“It was nice to meet you, Connor,” he said softly. “Now be a good boy and listen to what your Daddy says, all right?”

With a quick grin, the child nodded at him. Connor stood and forced himself to look at Angel.

“It was nice meeting you too,” he said with an awkward smile.

Angel slowly held out his hand to him. “It really was.” His hand tightened over Connor’s. “Spike told me. About... about your father, I mean. I’m sorry.”

Connor’s vision was blurring. He tried to swallow back the lump in his throat to reply, but couldn’t say a word. Before he knew it, Angel had pulled him into a hug. Connor closed his eyes tight.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything. And goodbye.”

He felt relieved when he heard the familiar sound at the other end of the lobby. Relieved, but also sad. He pulled away from Angel, blindly reaching for Spike’s hand. It was there at once, clasping his, already pulling him toward the portal. They crossed it without another word or look back.

Fred and Wesley were still seated on the floor in the magic circle, but they looked much more exhausted than a half hour spent chanting should have warranted.

“Did it work?” Fred asked, resting her head on Wesley’s shoulder. Her voice sounded raw.

“It worked,” Spike replied. “Everything went just fine.”

Connor looked back. There was nothing but a blank wall behind him.

“Just fine,” he repeated, and held on to Spike’s hand a little tighter.


End file.
